


In Tune

by Occasus



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Inappropriate Use of Musical Instrument, M/M, POV Erwin Smith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25947529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Occasus/pseuds/Occasus
Summary: "The piano sings at Levi’s command, music swelling into a melody so beautiful and intricate that Erwin loses himself to it. The runs and twinkling glissandos send shivers over his skin. The rich, low notes reverberate through his body and into his bones, echoing in his ribcage like hymns in a cathedral. It’s impossible that so much sound, so much magic, could come from just two hands—two brilliant, little hands—and yet it’s only Levi on the other side. Levi and his mind, intimately connected to his narrow shoulders and his slender wrists, and thosehands."In which Levi is a composer who is married to his work, and Erwin finds a way to rekindle their romance through questionable use of a piano.
Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith
Comments: 25
Kudos: 115





	In Tune

A thin ray of light spills into the hallway from beneath the door of Levi’s music room. Erwin stands alone in the dark, checking the time and contemplating interrupting Levi’s process to coax him to bed. It’s nearly two in the morning—Levi’s been at the piano for hours. He’s been working up into the night for weeks now, skipping meals, composing instead of sleeping. _Always_ composing. 

Erwin slips down the hall and pauses at the door. It’s impossible to hear Levi’s playing from outside due to the soundproofing seal, but Erwin can feel the vibrations of the lower notes through the floor beneath his feet, pulsing like a living thing. 

Inclining his head, Erwin presses his ear to the panel and listens. Levi’s in the middle of a run of notes: a deep rumble that races upward, dancing all around before returning to the piano’s low range, becoming a thrumming growl Erwin can feel in the center of his chest. 

He closes his eyes, imagining Levi’s hands flying over the keys. Small, pale hands that make up for their size with incredible skill. 

The piano sings at Levi’s command, music swelling into a melody so beautiful and intricate that Erwin loses himself to it. The runs and twinkling glissandos send shivers over his skin. The rich, low notes reverberate through his body and into his bones, echoing in his ribcage like hymns in a cathedral. It’s impossible that so much sound, so much _magic,_ could come from just two hands—two brilliant, little hands—and yet it’s only Levi on the other side. Levi and his mind, intimately connected to his narrow shoulders and his slender wrists, and those _hands._

The mere thought of Levi’s hands creating such sounds, tearing across the ivories, makes heat coil restlessly in the pit of Erwin’s stomach. 

Levi begins another complex run, soaring upward, drawing Erwin in further, mesmerizing him like a spell. Until suddenly a note hits Erwin’s ears like a red exclamation point: _Wrong!_

The miss is followed by an immediate, terrible silence. Erwin can practically see the wrinkle between Levi’s brows because of the mistake, the pianist glaring down at his own hands as if they’ve offended him. 

Silence stretches on. Erwin reaches for the doorknob, resolved. The break is as good an excuse as any to let himself in and coax Levi away from the instrument. But just as Erwin turns his wrist, the music begins again. 

Erwin freezes. He waits for Levi to fall back into his rhythm before he slowly eases the door open, silent as a shadow. 

The Steinway model S faces the door at an angle so that Levi’s back is to Erwin, his face mostly hidden. The instrument was an anniversary gift from Erwin: a piano of Levi’s own so he could work from home instead of using the University’s practice rooms. Composing kept Levi away from home too much. Purchasing the instrument was meant to remedy this, and initially, it was much better. Levi came straight home in the evenings. Erwin had his partner back. That was, until Levi started shutting himself away with his work. Recently, the long hours he spent holed up in his music room left Erwin lonely in the home they shared. 

Erwin grew weary of going to bed alone. Of the cold place in the sheets next to him where Levi’s warmth used to be. 

He studies Levi now as he moves along with the music, shoulders shifting this way and that, bare feet pressing the pedals in time, his mind and body in perfect synchronization. Dark hair falls into his eyes, disheveled from fingers running through it. Sheet music sits askew on the rackboard, full of angry scribbles. A dozen discarded rejects lie all around the piano, even more piled in crumpled balls thrown haphazardly at the wastebasket. 

Levi is too lost in his playing to notice he’s being observed, hands speeding up and down the keyboard. His frustration is clear in the height of his shoulders—not so much seated at the piano as he is hunched over it. 

Erwin watches. The melody begins to repeat. He holds his breath as Levi approaches the complex run he previously tripped over. When the sequence comes, it’s perfect—until it’s not, and this time, Levi swears viciously and follows the miss with a cacophonous banging of the keys that makes Erwin wince. 

Levi slumps in defeat. His hands curl into small fists that he rests atop the keys. He tips his head back, drawing in a sharp breath through his teeth before letting it out on a long sigh. “Not now, Erwin.” 

Caught, Erwin feigns casual, leaning against the door jamb. “Do you know what time it is?” 

“No.” Levi flexes his fingers, popping his knuckles. He doesn’t turn to look at Erwin. “Nor do I care.” 

“It’s two in the morning,” Erwin says gently, “You’ve been here all night.” 

“Well,” Levi scoffs, “I have nothing to show for it.” 

Erwin slips into the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind himself. He knows that a frustrated Levi is a volatile creature, and chooses his next words carefully. “I don’t know, Levi, that sounded quite good to me.” He unintentionally kicks a crumpled ball of sheet music across the floor.

Levi throws a glare over his shoulder, gray eyes sharp as a blade. “You’d say that if it was complete shit. Go to bed. Let me work in peace.” 

Erwin seizes the opportunity. “Come with me,” he urges, “Leave it for tonight. Come back tomorrow with a clear head.” He can’t remember the last time they went to bed together, the last time they—

 _“Erwin,”_ Levi warns, turning back to his music. He rolls his neck on his shoulders with more audible pops and cracks. Swearing, he rubs at a spot on his nape, just below the soft fuzz of his undercut. The movement draws Erwin’s attention. Slowly, he crosses the room to stand next to Levi’s bench. Levi doesn’t shoo him away, and so he carefully leans his hip against the piano. 

Looking down from his superior height, Erwin frowns while Levi continues to rub at his neck. “These long sessions aren’t good for you. You’re tense. I read somewhere that it’s not healthy for pianists to carry tension.” 

“Of _course_ you did.” Levi snorts a humorless laugh. “Are you suggesting I need to loosen up?” 

Erwin slips behind Levi and brings his hands up to rest lightly on either side of his shoulders. “Something like that.” When he isn’t immediately shaken off, he presses his thumbs in at the base of Levi’s slender neck. Muscle slides beneath his touch. Levi lets out a quiet grunt. 

“That hurts,” Levi gripes when Erwin adds pressure, circling over the tense area. He doesn’t flinch away though, and Erwin takes the allowance as an invitation to continue, dragging his thumbs downward from a central point at Levi’s hairline. 

“Relax,” Erwin instructs gently, earning himself a _tch_ in response. His hands drift to Levi’s shoulders, strategically kneading at the tight muscle. Levi’s posture loosens a fraction. 

A quiet moment passes. Tension bleeds from Levi as Erwin rubs circles in towards his spine, continuing down the length of his back before working back up to his shoulders. Slowly, Levi relaxes beneath the steady pressure of Erwin’s hands. He appears less angry now, more exhausted. 

“I should give up on this mess.” Levi breaks the silence, gesturing vaguely at the piano. 

Erwin peers past him, to the sheet music on the rackboard. The page corners are curled from repeated handling, the staves filled with hastily penned notes and fingerprint smudges. The bars Levi struggle with are evident, scribbled over and smeared gray, caged by an angry circle of ink. 

“Seems like a lot of work to abandon.” Erwin observes. 

Levi holds his hands up, flexes his thin fingers again. “I have this shitty habit of writing for someone with better hands.” 

“Better hands?” 

“The piano, Erwin,” Levi starts, reaching to play a random, terribly dissonant chord, “Was not made to be played by small fucking hands.” 

Erwin slides his own large hand down Levi’s arm to the elbow, lifting gently to bring Levi’s hand up. “I like your hands.” He takes the small, white hand in his own, raising it to his lips to brush his mouth across Levi’s knuckles. “One misstep doesn’t make them any less skilled.” He turns Levi’s wrist, lightly kissing each of his fingertips. 

Levi jerks his hand back, color pinking his cheeks. He mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like: “full of shit.” 

“I’ve heard you play many times. I’ve heard pieces you’ve written. There’s no denying your talent,” Erwin insists. “You’re tired and frustrated. You’ve been here for hours, Levi. Mistakes are bound to happen.” 

Levi turns back to his smudged music, unconvinced. He crosses his arms, hiding his hands in his armpits. “Go to bed, Erwin.” 

Unwilling to give up, Erwin shifts his strategy. “Play something for me.” 

Levi’s glare is a knife’s edge, all drawn brows and narrowed eyes. _“What?”_

“Something to wind down with, something calm,” Erwin presses, “Something you’ve played a hundred times before. Something I’ll like. Please—”

Levi huffs an exasperated sigh. “Fine.” He shakes his hands out, straightens his posture, drags a long breath in through his nose. Clever fingers return to the keys, thoughtfully stroking the smooth ivory for a moment before he strikes, and the music begins. 

Two notes in, Erwin recognizes the familiar piece with a thrill.

Debussy’s _Clair de Lune_ unfurls sleepy and elegant from Levi’s hands. 

Nostalgia washes over Erwin, hazy and sweet. It’s the first piece Levi ever played for him. The melody draws him back through time. 

On the night they met, Levi had been seated at a white baby-grand piano, with his dark hair slicked back in a classic style, dressed in a sleek, black suit complete with a silk bowtie. 

Erwin had begrudgingly agreed to visit the upscale lounge on a friend’s invitation. The atmosphere of such venues was typically a bit too arrogant for his liking, so the glamor of the place hadn’t interested him—until he saw Levi.

Erwin watched him all night, mesmerized by his grace and talent. As the drinks flowed and hours passed, patrons began to make requests, and Levi replicated each one with perfect accuracy. It was mostly upbeat pop tunes and rock hits, and although Erwin had been impressed by the pianist’s ability to play anything that was asked of him, he had a hunch it wasn’t his favored style. 

Emboldened by alcohol and wanting to impress the attractive little pianist, Erwin had strode over, dropped $200 in the tip jar, and requested _Clair de Lune._

He recalled those thin brows arching in surprise, a slight smile playing on narrow lips, but Levi had accepted his request and played the song beautifully. 

Afterward, when the lounge began to empty for the night and the lights over the piano went out, Erwin bought Levi a drink and asked him if he’d like to go out for coffee the following day. Levi had politely declined the invitation, but Erwin was nothing if not determined, and so he showed up at the lounge every Friday night, generously tipping Levi and requesting _Clair de Lune_ each time. Levi had remarked on his persistence with a tight-lipped smile, but eventually— _finally_ —Erwin scored himself a date, and the rest was history. 

Standing now in Levi’s music room, years after that fateful night, Erwin finds himself enchanted just as he was that first time, captivated anew by his pianist and the magic that flows from his beautiful little hands. 

With a shift of Levi’s shoulders, the melody expands, swelling within the room. It’s clear he’s comfortable with this piece, muscle memory guiding his fingers to the right notes. Erwin watches the flex of his hands, equally strong and delicate, pale skin stretching over bone and sinew. 

A sudden, intrusive thought invades Erwin’s mind—those same hands on his body, touching his chest, running fingers through his hair. He is intimately familiar with the pianist’s hands, knows how they feel against his skin and in his mouth. Erwin knows the taste of those sweet fingertips; can recall with heated clarity those hands curling over his shoulders, blunt nails digging into his back. How Levi _ruins_ him with those hands, on him and around him and inside of him. 

Erwin knows how it feels to have Levi pluck sounds from him as he does the piano, a master craftsman who knows the ins and outs of his instrument. All the right notes to strike and places to touch. 

Desire flares hot in Erwin’s gut. He fixes his gaze on the line of Levi’s slender neck, the subtle ridge of his spine rising from the collar of his shirt, the soft burr of his undercut. Erwin thinks of pressing his nose to that tender place, breathing in Levi’s scent, kissing the warm skin below his ear. 

It’s been so long since they’ve touched outside of simple gestures. Too long since Erwin has held Levi, or felt his skin against his own. He finds himself leaning closer, yearning. 

Levi’s hands falter when Erwin breathes across the sensitive skin of his nape. He misses a note, flinching away and whirling on Erwin, annoyed. “What are you—” 

“Keep playing.” Erwin instructs, mouth hovering at Levi’s ear. 

Levi glares a challenge back at him, eyes like a storm, thin lips drawing into a hard line. He doesn’t speak, but a muscle in his jaw slides, as if he’s holding back. Erwin watches the bob of Levi’s Adam’s apple when he swallows, and feels suddenly starved. 

Levi breaks eye contact first, turning away quickly, his hair falling into his eyes. He hesitates a moment, collecting himself with a deep breath, before he picks up where he left off. Erwin remains leaned over him, lingering by his ear. 

“You’re making this difficult,” Levi mutters. 

“Am I?” Erwin hums. He turns his face against the warm skin of Levi’s neck, dragging the tip of his nose upward to nuzzle into the soft, short hair at the base. Levi smells of clean sweat, and spiced tea, and pencil graphite. He shivers beneath Erwin, striking a note too sharply so that the melody staggers. 

“Erwin,” Levi cautions, voice dripping irritation. He leans away, only for Erwin to chase him, sealing his mouth over the tender place where the pianist’s pulse beats in staccato. 

Despite the distraction, Levi manages to smooth the music back into a calm rhythm, his brows slamming low over his eyes in concentration, determined to shut Erwin out. This only spurs Erwin further. He smiles into the side of Levi’s throat, kissing and nipping his way to the corner of his jaw. 

“Do you remember the first time you played this song for me?” He purrs the words against Levi’s ear. 

“Yes,” Levi’s voice is tight, his ear bright red next to Erwin’s mouth. “Although I’m surprised _you_ do. I recall you having a few drinks before wandering over to be a nuisance.” 

Erwin chuckles good-naturedly. “I was a bit tipsy, perhaps. But not so drunk as to make a fool of myself.” He brushes the bridge of his nose and his lips over Levi’s neck, longer strands of dark hair tickling his face. “I knew what I was doing. What I _wanted.”_

Levi shivers again and murmurs a sound of acknowledgement, trying his best to ignore Erwin’s persistent ministrations. “I thought you were mad, you know. Requesting Debussy.” 

“Admit it,” Erwin teases, hooking his chin over Levi’s shoulder, “You were impressed.” 

“Impressed?” Levi snorts. “Surprised, maybe. I spent all night suffering through stupid, shitty pop tunes only for you to show up at an ungodly hour and request something to put the entire room to sleep.” 

“It got your attention.” Erwin remarks, bringing his hands back to Levi’s slender shoulders, gentle enough not to disturb his playing. He strokes a thumb lightly against Levi’s neck, following the collar of his shirt, letting his fingertips slip beneath the fabric to rest against the graceful arc of a collarbone where Levi’s skin is fever-hot.

“Stop being a pain in the ass and enjoy your song.” Levi snaps. 

Erwin doesn’t move away, but he does go still. The room feels suddenly overwarm, his clothes suddenly tighter on his body. A longing ache sets up in the center of his chest. 

“I’ve missed you.” Erwin doesn’t realize he’s whispered the words aloud until Levi answers him. 

“I haven’t gone anywhere.” 

_Never anywhere but this room,_ Erwin thinks but doesn’t say. Tonight will be different. The air in the room feels charged, electric. Erwin determines to close the distance this room has put between them. He eyes the space between Levi’s body and the piano, watching a small, white foot press the pedals down below. 

Dropping his hands from Levi’s shoulders, Erwin shifts away to slip around the side of the piano bench instead. The pianist’s sharp eyes track his movements, wary. 

Without ceremony, Erwin drops to his knees on the polished wood floor. He carefully ducks beneath Levi’s elbow to squeeze between him and the instrument. 

“Are you _shitting_ me—” The music stops abruptly. Levi retracts his hands from the keys and scoots backward on the piano bench in annoyance, effectively giving Erwin more room. 

“Don’t stop,” Erwin shifts his weight on his knees, shuffling closer. He settles between Levi’s legs, running his hands up his calves over the fabric of his pants. “Please.” 

The look Levi gives him would kill a lesser man. But there’s a telling flush on his cheeks, creeping to his hairline, and he spreads his legs a bit wider to accommodate Erwin’s broad shoulders. 

“Play for me again, Levi,” Erwin whispers, resting his cheek against the inside of Levi’s knee. His hands wander up to grip Levi’s narrow hips and maneuver him closer. Close enough to feel the heat coming off of his body. 

Slowly, warily, Levi places his hands back on the keys. He plays a soft chord before dropping back into _Clair de Lune._ His expression is severe, focused. 

Erwin waits a few bars before he deftly pops the button of Levi’s pants open with his thumb and forefinger. Levi’s eyes dart to meet his stare, thunderstorm gray on ocean blue. Erwin expects him to protest, but he doesn’t. Nor does he make a move to stop him. He keeps playing, watching Erwin drag his zipper down. 

Levi’s half-hard cock presses against the black fabric of his underwear, and Erwin lightly strokes his knuckles over the curve of it, watching Levi’s tightly controlled expression flicker, his lips parting. 

Blood roars in Erwin's ears. He doesn’t so much hear the music now as he _feels_ it, vibrating through the floor beneath his knees. Leaning forward, he breathes hot across the growing bulge in front of his face. Saliva pools in his mouth in anticipation of his next move. Sensing he’s still being watched, he lowers his head to mouth at the outline of Levi’s cock through the material. 

Levi sucks in a sharp breath, hips stuttering forward, pushing himself against Erwin’s tongue. Erwin encourages him with firm licks until the dark fabric of his underwear is damp. He presses his lips gently to the swell of Levi’s cockhead and sucks at him through the cloth, flicking his gaze up to watch the pianist's expression twist. It’s not enough—not for either of them. Erwin wants to taste him, to taste his skin. He wants to pick Levi apart at the seams. To make up for lost time. 

Levi looks debauched already—the black of his pupils swallowing up his iris, his sharp features painted pink, his chest rising and falling with rapid breath.

Erwin draws back, keeping his hands on those slim hips, curling his fingers into Levi’s waistband. He tugs at the two halves of Levi’s pants and the pianist follows his lead, lifting his hips from the bench. 

“Don’t miss any notes,” Erwin murmurs, dragging pants and underwear down past Levi’s knees in one fluid motion. 

Erwin drinks in every detail: The dip of muscle, the sharp points of Levi’s hipbones, the contrast of dark hair against porcelain skin, and the way his cock juts out from the center of his hips, flushed red and _perfect._

Levi swears under his breath, shivering when his bare skin settles back against the cool surface of the piano bench. His hands don’t leave the keys, but his voice hitches, _“Erwin—”_

Erwin doesn’t know if Levi’s made any mistakes yet. He doesn’t care. He’s barely listening to the music, his focus narrowed to a single aim. He takes Levi’s cock in hand, gliding his thumb through the delicate bead of precome welled at the tip. Levi makes a soft sound through bitten-closed lips, his knees shaking at either side of Erwin’s head. 

“Beautiful,” Erwin whispers, bringing his thumb to his lips to taste Levi with his tongue. 

“Fuck, Erwin—” The words cut off with a strangled sound when Erwin leans forward and takes him fully into his mouth.

The weight of Levi’s cock on his tongue is heady, a feeling Erwin’s missed. He strokes along the shaft with the tip of his tongue, tracing a vein on the underside as he slowly sinks down, pressing his face into dark, wiry curls. Levi groans, the flat plane of his stomach jumping and flexing. Erwin inhales through his nose, breathing in the warm, familiar scent of his lover’s skin, and thinks he could spend the rest of his life here on his knees. 

Music continues, driven by Levi’s skilled hands, although it’s clear in the way he watches Erwin’s every move that the song is no longer his main concern. 

Erwin grips Levi’s hips with both hands and hollows his cheeks, adding pressure with his lips and tongue. He draws back, only to sink down again, finding a rhythm and bobbing his head with increasing speed. Levi lets out a shuddering breath, a sound liken to a sob. His left hand pulls away from the keys to card trembling fingers through Erwin’s hair. The melody softens, played by the fingers of a single hand while Levi watches Erwin with dark, hooded eyes, never looking away. 

Erwin holds his gaze, flicking his tongue at him, gently nudging his thighs farther apart. He has Levi’s full attention, and he gives him a show—turning his face so that Levi’s cock slips free of his mouth, brushing his wet lips across the tip before taking it in again, carefully past his teeth and into the side of his jaw to bulge his cheek. 

_“Shit,”_ The hand in Erwin’s hair rakes along his scalp to cup the back of his head and push him down. “God, Erwin, you look good like that,” Levi gasps. 

The sound of Erwin’s name in that voice, soft and airy like smoke, makes him ache between his thighs. 

Spurred by the praise, Erwin moves with purpose, speeding up, opening his jaw so that Levi’s cock slots into the back of his throat. He hears himself moaning around him, the low sound rumbling in his chest, resonating with the next chord Levi plays. 

Levi holds the notes, trapping them with the press of his fingers to draw the music out as long as possible, his head tipping back, lips parted. The muscles of his stomach contract, his body winding tight as a piano wire, teetering on the brink. Erwin swirls his tongue on the following upstroke, knowing the next jam of cock into his throat will be Levi’s undoing. He swallows around him, preparing himself for the rush of—

Without warning, the fingers at the base of Erwin’s skull tighten, fisting up a handful of blond and yanking him back by the hair. Levi looks down at him, eyes glassed, teeth bared, panting in silent warning. 

Erwin swallows thickly, his throat raw and sore. He blinks tears away from his eyes. His scalp stings where Levi holds him back. Neck arched, throat bared, down on his knees, no question of who is in control.

There is no music now, the song forgotten. Only the sound of their ragged breathing fills the room.

“Well?” Erwin’s voice is rough, _wrecked._

Levi drags the pad of his thumb through the wetness of Erwin’s swollen lower lip. “Get up. Take me to bed.” 

Erwin hesitates a breath. Too long for Levi’s impatience. The pianist reaches down and grabs the front of Erwin’s shirt, balling his fist in the fabric and hauling him forward into a bruising kiss. Erwin opens for him in obedient invitation, tilting his head and parting his lips to better slat their mouths together. Levi makes a sound caught halfway between a groan and a snarl, tasting himself on Erwin’s tongue. He kisses like a man starved, harsh and hungry, punctuating his pent up frustrations with each thrust of his tongue into Erwin’s mouth. 

It’s dizzying. Levi tastes like everything Erwin’s missed, strong tea and a bite of mint and something wholly _Levi._ He can’t remember the last time they shared a kiss outside of the chaste brushing of lips in the mornings before work. He wants more, melting into Levi, bringing his hands up to cradle his face. 

Levi rears away from his grasp, tugging harder where his fingers are white-knuckled in Erwin’s shirt. “No,” he hisses against Erwin’s lips, “I said, _get up.”_

The piano bench creaks in protest as Erwin braces his arms on it, shoving himself up from the floor. His knees pop audibly when he straightens, and Levi snorts in amusement. 

“That was—” he huffs, breathless, gesturing towards the piano, “—beautiful.”

Levi is on his feet, snaking his arms around Erwin’s neck. His pants fall around his ankles, but he pays no mind, shameless with his cock flushed crimson, curling up toward his navel. It’s an image that makes Erwin’s knees weak, makes him want to drop back to the floor and finish what he started. But Levi presses flush against him, scattering his thoughts, dragging a wet stripe across the fabric of Erwin’s pants when he grinds their hips together. 

“Did you plan this?” He whispers, leaning up on his toes to reach Erwin’s ear. 

“No,” Erwin admits, gasping when Levi ruts against him again. “I only meant to convince you to come to bed—”

Levi cuts him off with a finger to his lips. “You won. Now c'mon.” He steps out of his pants and hikes a slender leg up around Erwin’s hip. 

Erwin reaches down, getting a hand under the curve of his ass, the back of his thigh, lifting Levi’s smaller body into his arms with ease. He’s intent on carrying Levi out of the music room and down the hall to their bedroom, but his eyes snag on the shine of the overhead lights reflecting off the surface of the piano. He studies the flat expanse of the Steinway’s lid and imagines Levi sprawled across it, skin white as porcelain against the gleaming black lacquer. 

“Wait,” Erwin says, “I want to try something.” 

Levi glowers at him, skeptical. 

Erwin bumps his hip into the piano when he turns, losing his balance. He catches himself with a hand pressed down on the keys, banging out a random string of notes.

“Careful!” Levi snaps, squeezing his thighs around Erwin’s waist to keep himself from falling to the floor. “What the hell, Erwin?” 

“Trust me,” Erwin insists, slowly skirting around the side of the piano. He licks his lips and smooths a hand up Levi’s spine beneath his shirt, considering. He is bound to meet opposition for his next move, but it’s likely the only chance he’ll ever get, and so he does it anyway—he plops Levi down on top of the piano lid, careful as possible. 

Levi yelps when his bare ass hits the cold surface, clawing at Erwin’s shoulders. _“What the fuck_ do you think you’re _doing?_ You’re going to scratch it, and this piano cost more than—”

“I know,” Erwin cuts him off, gripping Levi’s sharp chin in his hand, “I bought it for you, remember? And now I’m going to fuck you on it.” 

The pianist’s gray eyes widen, taken aback. He blinks, processing. His mouth opens and shuts, opens again. When his thin brows knit together, Erwin leans in and kisses away any objection he may have had, pushing his tongue back into Levi’s mouth. He wants him naked, wants to have him _here_ and _now_ over his prized piano.

He finds the hemn of Levi’s shirt and rucks it up his sides to his armpits. Levi doesn’t fight him, breaking apart for a breath and lifting his arms so Erwin can pull the garment over his head. He flings it carelessly to the side, eager to get his hands on naked skin. 

“Fantasy of yours?” Levi wonders aloud. 

“I’ve thought about it since the first time I saw you sitting at that piano in the lounge.” Erwin confesses. 

“Oh, yeah?” Levi grins against his mouth, nipping at his lip. 

“Yeah,” Erwin places a broad hand on Levi’s sternum, pushing gently, urging him to lie back. “Never thought I’d actually get to see it.” 

“Pervert.” Levi lets himself fall backward onto his elbows, legs dangling off the edge of the piano. He looks as glorious laid out on the instrument as Erwin imagined, pale as the ivories except for the rosy flush that has crept all the way down his chest now, matching the soft pink color of his lips and his nipples and his most sensitive skin. 

“Let me look at you,” Erwin whispers, drinking in the sight. His fantasy made real. 

Levi shifts carefully atop the Steinway so not to jostle the instrument. He lies down flat with his arms flung over his head, hands slack. Biting his lip, he arches his back and spreads his legs to give Erwin a view that sends all the blood in his head rushing south. 

“Oh, god, Levi—”

“Come on, Erwin.” Levi reaches down and cups himself, sighing. 

Erwin pauses. It occurs to him with a sinking feeling that the spontaneity of the moment has left him ill-prepared. He swears under his breath, uselessly patting at his pockets. 

“Of course.” Levi rolls his eyes and jerks his chin toward the door. “Hurry.” 

Erwin is down the dark hallway in a blur. He doesn’t bother turning any lights on, just runs into the bathroom and flings open the cabinet, pawing around inside until he finds what he’s after. He grips the little bottle tightly in his fist to warm the contents on his way back to the music room, making a mental note to stash one in every room in the house. 

Blessedly, Levi is still waiting for him. Erwin halts, hovering in the doorway, allowing himself a selfish moment to stare. 

Lying on his back, Levi’s dark hair falls away from his face, spilled ink pooling into the black of the piano lid. He looks like a racy ad from a posh arts magazine, the arc of his ribcage and shape of his legs, all graceful lines; opulent and impossibly beautiful. One delicate hand dangles off the side of the instrument, fingers curling and uncurling in impatience. 

Erwin has never thought himself a religious man, but he wants to worship Levi. The Adonis flung across the noble piano. 

Levi’s head turns, lidded eyes finding Erwin where he stands enraptured in the door like a voyeur. His expression shifts, the curve of his mouth twisting upward. “Welcome back. Enjoying the view?”

Erwin nods, because he could live a thousand lives and never witness anything so arrestingly beautiful again. 

“Take off your clothes.” Levi instructs, voice dark and husky. He reaches between his legs to touch himself. 

Erwin hurries to comply—belt jingling undone, pants hitting the floor, shirt whipped over his head and tossed carelessly aside. He feels Levi’s stormy gaze on him, sparking over his naked skin like electricity. Stepping out of his last layer, he kicks them away, looking up to meet Levi’s eyes. They hold his own for a moment before scanning down the long length of Erwin’s body, catching midway. 

“Enjoying the view?” Erwin teases. 

“A bit.” Levi sneers, lazily tugging at his cock with the same pretty fingers that blazed across the keys to carry a melody just moments before. “Now get over here, don’t _—ah—_ keep me waiting.”

Erwin obeys, crossing the room and stepping between Levi’s open legs. It’s been weeks since he’s had his lover like this, and a little thrill runs through him. He is suddenly overcome with an unnamed emotion, one that makes his chest tight and lungs burn. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and smiles down at Levi, “Have I told you lately what a lucky man I am?”

“You’ve already got me naked, Erwin.” Levi mutters, bending his knee up to press his cold toes playfully into Erwin’s side. “C’mon.” 

“Alright, then,” Erwin says, “turn over.” 

Levi raises an eyebrow at the command, but doesn’t put up a fuss. He slowly turns his body on the piano, careful to distribute his weight evenly on his hands and knees. He lowers his head to rest his cheek on his forearms, elbows folded and spine arched in a graceful curve, hips canted upward. 

Erwin smooths his hands reverently down Levi’s narrow waist to the flare of his pelvis, murmuring quiet praise. He brushes across the warm, soft skin of Levi’s hips to palm his ass with both hands, spreading him open slowly with his fingers and groaning at the sight. 

Levi glances over his shoulder, watching Erwin admire him from under dark lashes. He makes a soft little sound in his throat when Erwin pours a generous amount of lubricant down the cleft of his ass.

“Try not to make a huge mess,” he mutters, grimacing with a shiver as the cool liquid drips down his balls and onto the piano. 

“Hush,” Erwin says. Any further complaint is lost the moment he teases a slick finger around Levi’s entrance, tracing circles, rubbing at him with the pad of his fingertip. He hears Levi’s breath catch, a shudder shaking his slender frame atop the instrument. 

Erwin knows Levi’s body well, knows when to add pressure and when to take it away, how to stretch him slowly and leave him trembling. “Relax,” He instructs gently when Levi’s thighs tense. It’s been too long, but Erwin remembers. Patient and attentive to his partner, he uses each twitch of muscle and length of breath to gauge when to advance and when to ease off. He peppers kisses along Levi’s spine while he works him open, petting his hip with his free hand as he slips his index finger fully inside. Levi turns his face into the cradle of his arms and moans a low sound, his knees sliding farther apart as his body yields. 

“Have you missed it?” Erwin asks quietly, focused on his task. The heaviness in his own groin was becoming impossible to ignore, but tending to Levi was more important. Making Levi feel good—giving him what he needed, showing him he was wanted—was important. 

Levi muffles a sound of acknowledgement into the crook of his elbow. “I’ve thought about it,” he admits, “I just—I’ve been busy. I _do_ spend a lot of time up here, but I have a deadline upcoming. I think—” His words hitch into a moan when Erwin adds a second finger alongside the first, crooking his knuckles _just so._

“Stop thinking.” Erwin says, turning his wrist, searching. “Enjoy the moment. Answer me.” 

“Yes— _ah_ —Erwin, _fuck.”_ Levi grunts through his teeth. 

“Tell me,” Erwin presses, “have you thought about me?” He leans up over Levi, brushing his mouth along his vertebrae, cataloging each one on his way down, kissing the twin dimples at the base of his spine.

“Of course I’ve thought about you,” Levi’s voice is tight, airy. His expression twists, what Erwin can see of it, eyelids fluttering shut. 

“You've missed me?” Erwin asks, his own voice so soft he barely recognizes it. He spreads his fingers apart, twisting them gingerly to coax the tight ring of muscle to relax. 

“Dammit, Erwin— _yes._ I’ve _missed you,”_ Levi groans, breathless. His pale skin shines with sweat. 

The admission makes warmth spread through Erwin’s chest. “I’m glad. I’ve missed you so much—”

 _“Shut up,”_ Levi snarls. “Stop. Talking.” His neglected cock jumps between his legs, drooling onto the gleaming black lacquer. “Fuck, you’re _killing me.”_

It was killing Erwin, too, watching Levi writhe stretched out on the piano, his ass in the air and hands clenched into fists. Killing him to watch his own thick fingers—three of them, now—disappear into the tight, slick heat of Levi’s body. 

“I’ve got you,” he hears himself whisper, “I’ve got you.” 

Levi doesn’t answer him with words this time, only with moans and shaky sighs. His composure gradually splinters, each pass of Erwin’s fingers spiraling him farther until he’s rocking back to meet him with abandon, trying to force Erwin deeper, breathing hard through his open mouth. 

Finally, he makes a hiccupy sound and throws a hand back to grip Erwin’s wrist, stopping him. “That’s enough,” he pants, his words fogging over the shiny black surface of the Steinway’s lid in front of his lips. “I’m ready, come _on.”_

Erwin retracts his fingers, hands shaking with unchecked desire. Sweat beads on his brow and the small of his back. He feels too big and too hot for his skin, the burning pressure in his gut threatening to consume him. 

Levi scoots back on the piano, extending one leg to lower his toes to the floor, keeping the other knee bent up on the edge of the instrument. The sight of him in that position—spine curved gracefully, legs spread open like an offering, glistening and perfect and _ready—_ is enough to nearly make Erwin come untouched. It’s been far too long; he barely trusts himself to slick his own cock, squeezing his eyes shut as he does so, biting back the sound that threatens to burst from his throat. 

“Levi—”

“Get on with it.” 

Erwin grasps Levi’s hip in one hand, lining up and guiding himself with the other. He hesitates with the tip of his cock against Levi’s rim. For whatever reason, the moment feels monumental. Perhaps because so many long, lonely weeks have passed since the last time. 

Levi grunts, impatient. He rolls his hips back with a soft sound of want. The movement drags the head of Erwin’s cock across his entrance, the briefest nudge of sweet pressure before gliding past. 

“Oh god, Levi—I—”

Levi repeats the motion, arching back, and suddenly Erwin can’t wait any longer. 

“Stop babbling and _fuck me—”_

They both gasp when Erwin finally pushes inside. Levi’s body is nearly too hot and too tight to stand. Erwin’s vision whites. He bites his lip until he tastes copper, slowly easing deeper. It’s maddening, advancing by increments, but he allows Levi a gracious moment to adjust before easing in another inch. 

A base instinct roars in Erwin’s blood, the need to slam his hips forward. To thrust, to fuck. He forces himself to be patient. Slow. The pressure at this pace is a special kind of agony, a slow slide into searing heat. Levi seems to feel the same, whimpering a pitiful sound and grasping at the edge of the piano, panting Erwin’s name. 

An eternity passes. Sweat rolls down Erwin’s spine from the exertion of holding himself back. He looks down to the place where their bodies are joined and feels dizzy, his hips flush to the rosy curve of Levi’s ass. 

“Am I hurting you?” He asks, breathless. 

Levi swears, shifting his weight on his toes. “No,” he grits, “just _move.”_

Erwin draws back and tentatively rocks forward again, keeping his movements slow and shallow. The hot clutch of Levi’s body drags a groan up out of his chest. It’s somehow both too much and not enough. 

_“Erwin,”_ Levi snarls, one narrowed eye glaring over his pale shoulder, “I’m a lot less fragile than the instrument you insisted bending me over. Now, _I said fuck me.”_

The snarled command is apparently the green light Erwin needed to hear. His brain takes a backseat, primal desire taking over. He brackets his arms on either side of Levi’s waist, bracing his hands down on the piano for leverage. He pumps his hips in earnest, finding a rhythm that pounds his cock into Levi with enough force to jar him further up the instrument. 

The pianist cries out and tosses his head back, his sweaty palms squeaking over the slick lacquer finish to find purchase and keep himself from falling off the side of the piano. 

Words tumble from Erwin’s lips, nonsensical. It could be a love declaration, it could be filth. He can’t hear it over Levi’s cries and the ringing in his own ears. Someone says something that ends in, _“—so good.”_

He won’t last, he already knows, not with Levi chanting his name like a mantra, not with how the tight heat of Levi’s body squeezes his cock like a vice. 

Erwin’s pace quickens. There’s no finesse, desperately running headlong toward his release. He bends closer to Levi, leaning over him until he can rest his forehead on his sweaty shoulder, until his chest is brushing against Levi’s back. 

The pianist winds tighter under him, growing noisier by the second, pushing himself back on his hands to meet Erwin stroke for stroke. Broken sounds mingled with Erwin’s name spill out of him, repeated over and over. 

“Look at you, Levi,” Erwin hears himself say, more air than voice, _“Look at you.”_

Levi’s breath comes in short, audible bursts, each thrust of Erwin’s cock hammering it from his lungs. He lurches to the side, snaking a hand down between his thighs to grip his weeping cock. 

Erwin shifts his weight, bearing down on him until they're flush together. He reaches down and knocks Levi’s hand away with a growl. “No, not until I let you.” 

A sound like a sob bursts from Levi's throat. He falls forward onto his elbows under the crush of Erwin’s bulk, bowing his spine deeper, chasing the cruel rhythm Erwin has set, trying to force the drive of his cock into the hidden places that made him wail and shake atop the piano. 

Erwin feels himself coming unhinged, the tempest roaring in his body cresting. Levi cords tighter still beneath him. He turns his head and Erwin kisses him over his shoulder, licking into his mouth and swallowing up his cries. 

“Dammit, Erwin,” Levi’s voice is rough, breaking, “Please— _touch me.”_

Erwin reaches blindly between Levi’s legs with his free hand, closing his fist around his cock, matching the pull of his fingers to the driving thrust of his hips. A shudder racks the smaller body beneath him. He hears Levi’s sharp inhale and feels his chest expand with it. 

“Oh,” he says, breath hot against Erwin’s skin, _“oh.”_

“Tell me.” Erwin whispers. He grinds his hips up against Levi’s ass, stroking deep, slowing his hand. “You feel good?”

Levi whines a high sound like an animal, rocking forward into the tight ring of Erwin’s fist. “Don’t you _dare_ fucking stop.” 

“You wanna come?” Erwin purrs, too breathless to be threatening. The pressure in his groin builds, a pinch behind his balls that sends shockwaves up his spine. “You wanna come on my cock?”

Levi moans his name in confirmation. In a gesture that’s oddly tender for Levi, he claws at the piano lid until he finds Erwin’s hand at his side, and laces their fingers. 

The emotion in Erwin’s chest swells. He throws himself into fucking Levi, stroking him faster with his hand. Without thinking, he sinks his teeth into a pale shoulder.

Levi tenses, and breaks. The next pass of Erwin’s hand over him, the next push and drag of Erwin’s cock over his prostate, makes every graceful muscle in the pianist’s body lock. He comes with a silent scream, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open and red, spurting across Erwin’s fingers and dripping delicate lace onto the Steinwey’s lid. 

The image of Levi undone coupled with the milking pulse of his body hurls Erwin over the edge. He shatters on the next upstroke, groaning Levi’s name into his skin, spilling into him. He shakes through his release, laying heavily across Levi, wrecked, clinging tightly to him to keep from dragging them both into the floor. 

In the aftermath, they’re both silent save their coupled, ragged breathing. Erwin feels boneless, lightheaded. The arm supporting his weight shakes, his elbow threatening to give out. He withdraws from Levi slowly, sluggish in the fuzzy fallout of orgasm. He straightens, frowning at the mark his teeth left on Levi’s shoulder, the pianist’s tender skin already blooming purple like a wine stain. 

Levi eases off the piano, hesitantly lowering his feet to the floor as if he isn’t sure they’ll support his weight. His fucked-out knees—reddened from kneeling on the piano—hold, but he wobbles unsteadily with his toes turned inward like a baby deer. He winces and looks at his beloved instrument. The mess on the lid, the fingerprints. His expression twists into a grimace as he straightens and feels the wetness dripping down his thighs. 

“You’ll clean this up,” Levi says sternly, pointing at the piano. 

“I promise.” Erwin nods, still catching his breath. 

Levi seems suddenly exhausted, his lashes fluttering low on his cheekbones, his posture slumping. He sighs and flicks his fingers towards the door. “I need to go shower.”

The clock on the wall tells Erwin it’s now after three in the morning. His own limbs feel heavy, his eyes stinging with sleeplessness. Sweat cools on his skin and makes him shiver in the open air. “Why don’t you go on and shower? I’ll clean up here and meet you in bed.”

Levi frowns again at his defiled piano. “Yeah, okay.” He leans down and picks up a discarded shirt, tugging it on over his sweaty, mussed hair. Erwin’s shirt, judging by the way the hem hangs to mid-thigh. 

Erwin starts gathering up the other piles of clothes, trying to decide how best to go about wiping down the piano. 

“Hey, Erwin.”

He looks up. Levi hovers in the doorway, one pretty hand wrapped around the knob. His expression is smoother now, all the anger fucked out of him. There’s something soft and fond in his gray eyes. 

“Yeah?”

“You’re right.”

Erwin hesitates, and Levi continues. 

“I do spend too much time here. Too much time away from you.” Levi shakes his head and scratches at the short fuzz of his undercut. He stares off into space for a moment, worrying at his bottom lip, considering. “I’ll work on it, okay?”

Erwin feels a smile spread across his face. “Okay.” 

Levi doesn’t smile back, but he does snort a little laugh, the corner of his lips quirking, before he pads silently down the hall, out of sight. 

For the first time in weeks, Erwin feels in sync with his lover. Reconnected. His body hums with the joy of it, despite the tired ache in his bones. 

He hurries to clean up, knowing the sooner he finishes the task, the sooner he can slide under the sheets with Levi and hold him close.

While wiping down the piano lid, Erwin notices Levi’s unfinished sheet music lying facedown in the floor, no doubt knocked off the rackboard while they were . . . occupied. He stoops to pick it up, smoothing the worn pages and righting them back in place over the keys. He finds one of Levi’s pencils and jots _“pace yourself and don’t give up!”_ lightly in the margin. 

A few minutes later, Erwin slips into the bedroom they share, hair still damp from his shower. One pale shoulder sticks out from under the blankets, rising and falling with deep, even breaths. Erwin tries to carefully shift under the sheets without waking him, but Levi stirs when his weight dips the mattress. 

“Piano?” He slurs, turning over. 

“All clean and gleaming like the day it was delivered.” Erwin assures him, pressing a soft kiss to Levi’s mouth. 

Levi merely grunts in response, snuggling into Erwin’s chest and tangling their legs beneath the sheets. 

“It’s nice to finally go to bed with you again.” Erwin whispers into the dark. 

“Shh.” Levi hushes him, bumping his ribs with his knuckles. 

Erwin grins up at the ceiling. Happy. He wraps his arm around Levi’s shoulders, kisses the crown of his hair, and all is right in the world. Back in tune.

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to my twitter group chat for encouraging me to not give up on this thing. Thank you all for being so kind, supportive, and patient with me. 
> 
> This fic has been a labor of love. I'm not 100% happy with it, but considering I started it in November 2019, I'm happy to see it finally complete. It's been a journey, which is silly considering the contents, but I had all but convinced myself ~1500 words into this that it was a failed venture. Due to stress, and lack of time/motivation I convinced myself I was a terrible writer and should give up. So it brings me great joy finally publish this one. 
> 
> Thank you, readers. If you enjoyed it, please let me know. <3
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated. 
> 
> Come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/occasusH) if you'd like to hear me yell about writing and Eruri and other things.


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